Return of the Forgotten

  But even as the villain drew closer to where he and Hope crouched, Pup could not seem to focus on him. Instead he met Hopper’s gaze and held it, hoping that the shame and remorse writhing within him would show plainly enough on his face, to make Hopper understand how truly repentant he was.

  Hopper looked back at him. And there, across the golden-lit expanse of City Hall station, Pup saw what he needed to see in his brother’s eyes.

  Forgiveness.

  “I have an idea,” Hope whispered. “I’m going to distract him.”

  “Brilliant,” said Pup. “How?”

  “Let’s just say,” said Hope, removing her tiara, “that I won’t be needing this silly thing anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “Devon wanted to be royal, and look what it did to him!”

  “So . . . ,” said Pup, confused, “you don’t want to be thought of as a royal princess anymore?”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “I am so over it.” With that, she flung her shining tiara straight at Dev’s head. Her aim was true; the little crown clonked him on the back of his skull. It wasn’t enough to do any damage, but it was all the distraction they needed.

  Devon cried out in surprise, bobbling his weapon, and losing his hold on the princess. Feeling mighty, Pup brandished the hedgehog quill and ran full force at the stunned villain as Hope bolted forward to grab her sister and drag her back down the steps out of Dev’s reach.

  But Devon was quick to recover from his shock; he regained his sword almost instantly, and aimed it at Pup.

  Pup waved the quill, but he knew as well as Dev did that a hedgehog spine was no match for a well-crafted sword.

  And then he sensed it . . . motion, just overhead, something hovering above. His eyes shot upward. And what he saw there actually made him laugh with delight.

  “Something funny, Pup?” Devon snickered. “Besides your weapon, that is?” He began to stalk Pup slowly. “Do you honestly think you can hurt me with that pathetic excuse for a sword?”

  “Probably not,” Pup admitted, his face breaking into a cocky grin. “But I bet a little spider silk could do some serious damage!”

  Suspended by a nearly invisible filament, Hacklemesh dropped down from the ceiling and landed on Dev’s head.

  “Ahhhh!” cried Dev, slapping at the eight hairy legs that now enfolded him. “Ahhhh!”

  “Spin, Hack!” Pup cried. “Spin.”

  As the astonished group of rodents looked on, Hacklemesh worked his arachnid magic, expertly encasing Dev in a tightly woven cocoon of sticky spider silk.

  Devon was caught.

  The battle was over. But the terror had just begun.

  Because Firren had closed her eyes. And from where Pup stood, she did not look as if she’d be opening them again anytime soon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  IT IS A SOMBER PARTY that jumps aboard the empty 6 train to return to Atlantia. Zucker carries his beloved Firren as though she is a priceless treasure, which, of course, she is. Each of the royal heirs takes a turn hugging their sister Hope, thrilled that she has been returned safely to them, but at the same time heartsick over their mother’s precarious condition. Having retrieved her tiara she used to save Go-go, Hope carries it tucked under her arm but oddly, chooses not to put it on.

  The Chosen One and his brother flank the prisoner Dev, while Celeste and I look on. Celeste’s eyes are still moist with tears for her lost sister.

  What will become of Dev, we cannot yet guess. Pinkie will try him in a Mūs court for the murders of her soldiers. The elders will decide what is to be done with him. And while I am sickened by the crimes he has committed, the damage he has caused, I cannot help but feel sorry for the loss that brought him to this point of madness.

  The legacy of Titus’s treaty with Felina, it seems, can still bring pain. I suppose it is like that with evil. Even when we believe we have destroyed it, we must remain ever vigilant and be prepared to defeat it again and again whenever it rears its ugly head.

  Before we left the splendid and magnificent City Hall station, Pup and his spider friend bid each other a fond farewell. The spider apparently liked the aesthetics of the abandoned station and elected to remain there, where he would spin webs as intricately ornate as the wrought-iron filigree work of those long-forgotten skylights.

  It is a long way back to Atlantia. We must take another train to the Barclays stop, and then we are forced to run the gauntlet of human foot traffic in order to reach the portal that drops us into the part of the tunnel that we call home. All the while, Zucker’s tender hold on Firren never falters.

  We arrive, at long last, at the gates of Atlantia and find that for the first time in a very long while, the entrance to the city is being guarded by an enormous, green-eyed feline.

  All of us, except for Pup, Hope, and the Chosen One himself, stop in our tracks. They, however, hurry forth without hesitation or fear.

  This strikes me as odd, until I hear Hopper calling the cat by name.

  “Ace!” he cries. “Ace, you’re here!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ACE MOVED LIKE A STREAK of black-and-white lightning toward the palace of Atlantia. With Hopper and Marcy’s help, Zucker had managed to climb onto the tuxedo cat’s strong, silky back without letting go of Firren.

  Firren, who hadn’t stirred since they’d left City Hall station.

  Raz, along with Bartel and Pritchard, was sent on his first official military detail: escorting the silk-bound Dev to the Mūs village, where he would be imprisoned until Sage, Christoph, and Temperance could determine his fate.

  The citizens of Atlantia watched in hushed awe as the emperor rode through the streets of the city on the back of the upland cat. At the palace Zucker carried Firren to the royal bedchamber. Marcy helped him to remove the blue cloak and silver cape in an effort to make the wounded empress more comfortable. Hope covered her mother with the worse-for-wear scrap of patchwork blanket and refused to leave her side.

  No one saw any reason to ask her to.

  “Mother,” the tiny princess whispered. “I understand now. I understand why you and Daddy don’t want me and Raz and the others to get carried away with royalty. It’s what made Dev so greedy and mean. He hurt people because he wanted to be a prince. He thought being royal was more important than being good. And I don’t want to be that way . . . ever! I don’t need pretty dresses or shiny jewels to feel special and important. You and Daddy make me feel that way every single day . . . and not because I’m a princess. Because I’m me.”

  Zucker leaned down and kissed his daughter between her ears. “I’m sure Mommy is happy to hear that,” he said softly.

  Hopper only stayed long enough to see that the warrior empress was settled; then he tiptoed out of the bedchamber to make his way to his own quarters, where he knew Pup would be waiting.

  He was halfway down the corridor when Marcy came out of the royal chamber after him.

  “Hopper? May I speak with you?”

  Hopper turned and saw that she was holding the blue cloak. La Rocha’s disguise. He gave her a sad smile. “I don’t suppose you’re taking that to be laundered.”

  Marcy shook her head. “This is who I am now, Hopper. I had forgotten for a bit, but it’s all come back to me.”

  “So you’ll be going? Back out into the tunnels?”

  “Yes, but I’ll never be far. You’ll see me about the palace now and again.” She leaned down to kiss his torn ear, the one she herself had once washed and bandaged. “I don’t like to be gone from those I cherish. And I think you know how much I cherish you, Chosen One.”

  “I cherish you right back,” he whispered.

  “There is something I want to share with you. A secret.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now that you know about La Rocha’s legacy, you understand that one day in the future I will be passing on my mystic title to another.”

  “It’s a good system.”

  Marcy laughed. “It is. And n
ow I am entrusting to you and only you the name of the one I would like to see take up this duty when I have finished. The one who shall follow in my pawprints, so to speak.”

  Hopper’s eyebrows rose with curiosity. “Who is it?”

  Marcy glanced around the corridor, then pulled Hopper close and whispered a name into his ear. His face lit up.

  “A wonderful choice!” he said. “Perfect, really.”

  “I thought so,” said Marcy. “He already shows the signs. He is wise and thoughtful. A small rat with big ideas and an interesting way of looking at the world. Not to mention a wonderful sense of humor. Believe me, that comes in handy when dispensing wisdom in this often dreary tunnel world of ours.”

  “Can I tell Zucker? I think he’d be proud.”

  Marcy shook her head. “No. You can tell no one. It is part of the mystical legacy. La Rocha’s identity must always remain a mystery. It was only these extreme circumstances that allowed you and the royal couple to discover that, for the moment at least, the role of tunnel prophet is mine.”

  “You’re right,” said Hopper. “I will keep this information about the next La Rocha to myself, and when the time is right, I will tell you-know-who that he has a very special destiny to fulfill.” He puffed out his chest and grinned. “I have some personal experience with that sort of thing, you understand. I know a thing or two about destiny.”

  “That you do,” said Marcy with a laugh. “Be well, little hero. I will see you soon.”

  Hopper watched his friend skip off down the hallway, and then he continued on to his own bedchamber. As expected, Pup was there, hunched over the desk that had once belonged to Zucker.

  “Hello, Pup.”

  “Hello, Hopper.”

  Much to Hopper’s satisfaction, upon their return to the palace, Marcy had directed two liveried servants to do for Pup exactly what they had done for him when he’d first come to the palace—lost and alone and very dirty, clinging nervously to Zucker’s paw with no conception of the future that lay ahead of him.

  As the servants had escorted Pup up the stairs that would eventually bring him to a basin filled with chilly water and soap, Hopper had called after him, “Don’t worry, Pup, it’s only a bubble bath. It won’t kill you.”

  Thanks to that bubble bath, Pup’s beige fur was once again clean and soft. The biggest improvement was that he’d been purged of the ugly black circle he’d drawn around his eye. He was Pup again.

  Well, almost.

  “What’s with that rag you’ve got wrapped around your head?” Hopper asked. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “It’s just something I’m trying,” said Pup, blushing. “It’s what the pi-rats wear.”

  “The pi-whats?”

  “They live on a boat called the East River Ferry,” Pup explained. “They’re a little scary at first, but once you get to know them, they’re a fine bunch of rodents. Kindhearted, and honorable. According to them, a life on the water is the most exciting life of all. Trust me, Hopper, you haven’t lived until you’ve felt the wind in your fur and the spray of the river in your whiskers.”

  Hopper smiled. He felt the same way about riding the subway. “Sounds thrilling.”

  “Oh, it is! Which is why I was hoping . . . well, if it’s all right with you and Pinkie, I think maybe I’d like to be one. A pi-rat, that is.”

  Hopper frowned. “Pup, you can’t be a pi-rat!”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, for one thing, you’re a mouse.” But Hopper had heard the need in his brother’s voice. He hated the thought of losing Pup yet again, but he also understood that destiny has an awfully strong pull.

  “You’re your own mouse now,” Hopper said with a sigh. “All grown up and more than capable of taking care of yourself and anyone else who might need you. You proved that by bringing Hope home safely.”

  Pup beamed. “That means a lot to me, Hopper.”

  Hopper reached into the pocket of his jerkin and took out a letter, which he handed to his brother. “This was delivered for you. From Pinkie.”

  Pup gave him an embarrassed look. “Will you tell me what it says?”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” Hopper opened the note and read it silently. Then he looked up at Pup and smiled.

  “What?” asked Pup.

  “She forgives you,” Hopper reported. “And we know what a big deal that is for her!”

  “She’s changed,” Pup observed.

  “More than you know,” said Hopper, pointing to the letter. “This goes on to say that she’s turning the responsibility of leading the Mūs village back over to the elders entirely.”

  Pup looked as though he could scarcely believe it. “Why?”

  “She wants to explore the tunnels. She’s been doing that, you know. Riding the trains far and wide, collecting treasures from all sorts of places. Meeting new rodents, seeing new places.”

  “Sounds rather adventurous.”

  “Sure does.” Hopper nodded. “So I guess this is how it’s going to be, then. My brother is going upland to become a pi-rat, and my sister is heading out to become a great explorer. Makes my life sound a little dull.”

  Pup laughed. “I don’t think the life of the Chosen One will ever be dull,” he said. “And who knows, there may be some great big grand adventure waiting in your future too!”

  If there was, Hopper couldn’t imagine what it might be. He was about to mention this to his brother when the bedchamber door swung open and his godchild stepped in.

  “Hope!” said Hopper. “What is it? How’s Firren?”

  “Awake!” cried Hope, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness and relief. “All thanks to Celeste. She knew exactly what to do to make the bleeding stop. When Mother awoke, the first thing she did was invite Celeste to stay on as Atlantia’s physician. And she agreed.”

  Hopper smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

  Now Hope turned to Pup. “You look much better without that silly smudge around your eye.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I brought you a couple of surprises,” she said, handing him her tiara. “This is to remind you of the big rescue. We made a great team, didn’t we?”

  Pup nodded, taking the glimmering crown.

  “Consider it your first official object of pi-rat doody!” said Hope.

  “I think the word is ‘booty,’ ” said Pup, grinning. “But thanks.”

  “Next surprise . . . ,” said Hope, leaning back into the hallway and waving. Because Hopper was closer to the doorway, he saw the second “surprise” before Pup did. His heart went warm as Hope said, “Hopper, would you care to do the honors?”

  “My pleasure,” he said, his voice catching. “Pup, I’d like you to meet a living legend.”

  Dodger stepped into the room, his eyes shining as they gazed, for the first time since that long-ago night when he’d crept out of the cage in Keep’s shop, at his son.

  “Dodger, this is Pup,” said Hopper. “Pup, meet your father.”

  Hopper and Hope left the newly reunited father and son alone to get acquainted. By now the whole population of Atlantia had heard the news of Firren’s recovery, and the streets were filled with gleeful revelers, rejoicing over the empress’s good fortune. A dinner banquet was being planned for that evening to celebrate.

  Firren officially declared it a non-royal event. No bowing, no curtsying. Dress code: casual.

  As the Chosen One and the young rat made their way through the palace, Hopper realized he was still holding Pinkie’s letter. When he slipped it into his pocket, he was surprised to find that there was something already tucked in there. The sketch Mamie had given him that his grandmother Myrtle had drawn, so long ago. He’d forgotten all about it.

  He was about to take it out of his pocket when the emperor came dashing around the corner from the royal bedchamber.

  “Hopper, have you heard?” Zucker cried, clapping his friend on the back. “She’s been asking for you! She can’t wait to see you.”

&nbsp
; “Firren?”

  “Well, yeah, her too,” Zucker said, laughing. “But that’s not who I mean.”

  “That’s another surprise!” said Hope, taking her very confused godfather by the paw and dragging him across the palace lobby. “In here!”

  Zucker flung open the towering door to the throne room and all but pushed Hopper inside.

  And there she was.

  “Carroll!”

  In that moment, Hopper knew that there was, in fact, a stupendous adventure in his future. And he had a feeling it would be more wonderful than he ever could have hoped.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  A FEW WEEKS LATER, BELOW the streets of Manhattan . . .

  The ceremony took place on the steps.

  Of City Hall station.

  The new city, which Hopper would oversee as mayor, was mostly still under construction, but a handsome, sturdy home already had been built at the foot of the staircase for the Chosen One and his bride. At present the home was largely unfurnished, except for a gleaming wooden desk that had been brought from Atlantia and placed in the mayoral office.

  Zucker’s old desk, the one at which Hopper had learned to read and write.

  “Think of it as a wedding gift,” President Zucker had said when the desk was delivered.

  Zucker and Firren had finally convinced the Atlantians that they no longer needed a monarchy to rule the city. The family-formerly-known-as-royal would be moving out of the palace into a more reasonably sized home so that the palace could be turned into a school for all the children of Atlantia.

  Brighton was already hoping to be the valedictorian of its first graduating class. And Go-go was planning the prom.

  Hopper looked out over the gracefully curved City Hall platform where friends and family members—Atlantians, Mūs citizens, and even a handful of grassland residents—were gathered to witness his marriage. He liked that this station, which would be his and Carroll’s new dwelling place, came complete with overhead chandeliers. This simulated sunlight would mean that Carroll would never feel homesick for the bright upland sky. And of course, Hopper and Carroll would be visiting Ace often, and Pup the swashbuckler, who had arrived back in the tunnels just the day before.